My Place
by Lyrical-Escapades
Summary: Short little something something about when Jim gets really sick. : slight Kirk/Spock. The good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I let my Beta read this and she wanted me to put it up. XD Nothing huge. I got bored and... this was the product of it :] Reviews VERY welcome :D Enjoy!**

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Jim's head was swimming. They weren't on any particular mission, just coasting leisurely through space as they did every so often. He had been having a problem with headaches since their visit to a distant planet – on a Federation declaration of peace, which was very successful. The air on that certain planet had felt thick, unlike anything else he had breathed in before. It started four days ago, just as a dull throb that seemed more of an annoyance than anything else. Gradually, it got worse, escalating into a sharp pain that lanced through his temples every time he blinked. He finally just closed his eyes while sitting on the Bridge, putting his hand over his eyes to shield the florescent lights further.

"Keptan…?" Jim didn't need to look up to know who that was.  
"Yes?" His voice was low, every sound echoed through his head.

Spock glanced back at his Superior, eyebrow raised slightly at his shortness towards the other crewmembers.

"Are you feeling alright?" Sulu chimed in, swiveling in his chair to face Jim.

"Just tired." Blue eyes slowly opened, the lights felt like needles being jabbed into his eyes and he resisted the urge to close them once more. "I might just take leave, Spock you have the helm." He muttered, rising from his seat.

His legs felt like jelly, but he made his way out, groping his way down metallic corridors until he finally managed to get into his room and collapse onto the bed. His legs curled up tight towards his chest as numb hands gripped his hair. White teeth clenched together in a futile effort to relieve some of the pain; but nothing worked. Those needles were digging deeper and deeper into his brain, rendering him completely useless as hot tears snaked down his cheeks and he moaned helplessly into the mattress. Every muscle in his body was rigid. Relaxation, the thing he wanted more than anything else in the universe at that very moment, was impossible.

He didn't even hear his doors hiss open, or know anybody had entered until a cool hand pressed itself against his forehead. A voice drifted through his head, sounding as if it were underwater. He was drowning, being pulled under by invisible hands that clutched at his body, fingers wrapping around his throat. Darkness dragged him down, unrelenting and unforgiving.

* * *

"Can you figure out what is doing this, Doctor?"

McCoy was scanning over Jim's sweat-covered body, eyebrows stitching together in concern. "There is a plant that releases a neurotoxin, specifically a nerve agent… he must have inhaled it while he was down there." The Doctor grumbled some choice words before getting to work trying to find the best antidote for Jim's condition.

Spock knelt down before his Capt— no, his friend. His breathing was constricted and troubling in the way he was panting; his eyes were shut tight as if he were flinching away from something. Spock's half-Vulcan heart sunk in his chest as his fingers brushed over Jim's throbbing temples. _T'hy'la…_ Gently, he found the meld points…

_Immediately Spock was overcome with a degree of sadness at how much pain swarmed around in Jim Kirk's mind. Wave after wave of anguish shot past his own body, a streak of red and black that found its way to his Captain's body, slamming into it like a battering ram. Jim's cry for help echoed throughout the barren space in his mind, a sound that sending a terrifying chill down Spock's spine._

He released the meld, eyes red with unshed tears and his pulse elevated. McCoy had waited for him to separate before he injected a potent sedative into the feverish body laying on the gurney. The two men watched as slowly, almost reluctantly, Jim's body uncurled itself a fraction and, for what it was worth, he relaxed.

"Will he…" Spock cleared his throat, trying to rid the lump that rose in his throat, "Will he survive?"

McCoy hesitated. He _never_ hesitated. Something of a joke was always made when Jim ran a fever or felt under the weather. The doctor's face drained of its color somewhat, Spock noted.  
"I… don't know."


	2. Chapter 2

**I didnt say it before, but... I obviously dont own Star Trek D: SIGH. Reveiws -- Dont forget :] Enjoy!**

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It had been two days, fourteen hours, thirty seven minutes and twelve seconds since Jim had lapsed into, what Bones was now calling, a coma. Since that moment, he had endured three seizures and one cardiac arrest. McCoy was doing everything in his ability to keep Jim with them, but even he was losing hope at his best friend's deteriorating condition. Spock had tried several – _specifically, three_ – different times to meld with him, but he found nothing but a barren space with Jim screaming on the floor. Any attempt to consol the man was futile and the gravity of the situation only made Spock retreat from his mind, overwhelmed with negative emotions.

_Two days, fourteen hours, thirty nine minutes and fifty-seven seconds._ He mentally noted, unable to concentrate at the task at hand. Several of the medical personnel had gone above and beyond to search for a way to flush Jim's system to rid him of the toxins. Surgery was discussed about trying to get inside his lungs to possibly scrape out whatever was in there, but it was far too risky, especially when he was becoming worse by the day.  
Spock rose from his seat, going back to sickbay. Something was wrong. Something was wrong and it was demanding him to see his comrade, his lover.

He pressed a few buttons, getting into the isolated room Jim was contained in. McCoy was furiously performing CPR. A monitor in the background sang one, long, continuous and high-pitched note. _Flat line_.  
"Dammit, Jim, come back!" McCoy was yelling. "Paddles!" A nurse handed them off and he put them against Jim's bare chest. "Charge to 360… Clear!" A jarring shock lifted Jim's body from his lower back to his shoulder blades clear off the bed. In the background, amidst the chaos, a three-second interval _beep_ sounded.  
_T'hy'la…_ Jim couldn't hear him. No matter how hard Spock wanted to connect with him, to hear his voice, he simply couldn't.

"I have one more option," Bones said, sounding out of breath. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, adjusting the tube that was in Jim's throat – Spock had no idea when this had happened – to help Jim stabilize. "It's going to take another few days to kick in… if our boy can hold on that long, well… we just have to wait."  
Spock just nodded, his dark eyes resting on the pale face of his lover. It had to work. Didn't it?  
_You cannot leave me, T'hy'la.  
_

* * *

Days passed and for once, the First Officer had forgotten how long it had been since Jim…

He was unfocused and it was showing in his work. McCoy offered him to take medical leave, trying to justify that the situation at hand was causing him trauma. Spock brushed it off.  
"It's illogical," He stated, "That I should not perform my duties as the Captain's First Officer when I am needed the most."

However, he was not on duty until the morning. So he sat, waiting, in his room for any word. Dark thoughts twisted throughout his brain, weaving false tales that Jim was dying, that he was never going to return. What if he never got to hold him again? What if, what if, what if?

"_McCoy to Spock."  
_"Yes, Dr. McCoy?" Spock answered, almost sounding eager. _Almost._ He retained his composure, rising from his bed.  
_"I think you need to come down here. McCoy out."_ The connection ended. Spock could not discern any note of concern, nor elation from the man's voice. He quickly left his room, half running towards Sickbay.

He opened the door and went inside, his eyes meeting familiar blue orbs as he stepped through.  
"T… T'hy'la." He whispered.

Jim smiled softly, the plastic intrusion still in his mouth. His chest was rising and falling beneath the blankets as the machine assisted in and eased his breathing. Spock closed the distance between them, slipping his hand over Jims, filling the spaces between his fingers with the human's.  
"It was a last ditch effort, but we made a cocktail of different antidotes that worked together. They were just strong enough." McCoy explained. Jim regarded his friend with a relieved look. "Yeah, yeah. You _owe_ me, Jimmy. I'm serious this time. Dinner for a week. No. _Lunch_ and dinner for a week."  
The corners of Jim's swollen mouth twitched upwards before settling back in their former place. McCoy made an excuse to leave the room, flashing a small grin as he went.

'_You had me so worried…' _Spock said into Jim's mind, a silky voice that slipped through his head, very much welcomed.  
_'Stupid headaches. I'm sorry.'  
'You should have informed me or Doctor McCoy.'  
_Jim made some kind of disgusted noise in his mind. A scoff? _'It was just a headache. How long has it been?'  
_The Vulcan rubbed his hand tenderly, thinking back. _'One week, seven hours and twenty-six minutes. Give or take. It was not just a headache, either.'  
_Laughter filled Spock's mind, wrapped the man in its warmth._ 'I still can't believe you keep track of time like that. Or do you only do that with me?'  
'It was a troubling occurrence, do not flatter yourself.' _An attempt at a joke, Jim noted. How cute.


	3. Chapter 3

**Last Chappie :] Hope you guys liked it. -coughReviewwwww=Loveeeeecough-**

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The morning after Jim had woken up Bones had removed the tube from Jim's throat, leaving him with a raw, scratchy voice. While Jim was preoccupied talking to Spock, he slipped another hypo into his neck to prevent another high fever, since Jim had not completely broken the one he was in.  
" 99.6. Better than 104, I guess. S'no wonder you almost died." Bones was muttering, mostly to himself as Jim was calling him some pretty bad names for sticking him while he wasn't paying attention. McCoy was on his PADD, walking out of the room shaking his head.

"He's completely ignoring me!" Jim whined, glaring after Bones when the doors slid shut.  
Spock made quick work of shutting the Captain up. He slipped his hand over Jim's cheeks, stroking them gently as he leaned up, capturing his T'hy'la's own in a searing kiss that should, by all means, have increased his fever even more. Jim made a satisfied noise low in his chest, cerulean eyes drifted shut to relish in the feeling only Spock could create inside him. The kiss broke when Spock pulled away, resting his forehead against Jim's.

"You scared me." He whispered, his hands remaining in their proper place.  
"I seem to be really good at doing that." Jim chuckled softly, rubbing up and down Spock's forearms gently. "Come up here with me."

Spock eased his way onto the bed beside Jim, who laid his head against the Vulcan's warm chest, closing his eyes. "Did you try to meld with me?"  
"Several times." Long fingers ran through brown locks slowly. Jim needed a good shower, but this was acceptable for now. "The first was the longest, but it was…"  
"Painful?" Jim offered.  
"Excruciating. I have never in my life experienced that while trying to connect with somebody." He felt Jim shift beneath him, idle fingers running up and down his side. A comforting notion, he decided. "If at all possible, I do not wish to go through that again."  
"Agreed." Jim nodded.

"You are tired. Rightfully so, you need your rest."  
"If I fall asleep, you'll leave. So, no."

Spock lifted Jim's chin gently, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. " I will not go anywhere, T'hy'la. My place aboard this ship is right here next to you."  
"Until further notice?"  
Spock nodded. "Until further notice."


End file.
